The Wonderful Phantom of Oz
by SometimesAllyWrites
Summary: *****PERMANENT HIATUS** NO LONGER UPDATED***** Everyone is going to Shiz. Mayhem and confusion and romance are BOUND to follow! A collab with the wonderful J.R. Nels.T for language. R&R! Erik/Christine, Fiyero/Elphaba, maybe some Boq/Nessa etc.
1. Acceptances

**Hello there Readers! Well Happy Holidays and Happy New Year from allygraced! Here is a crossover fanfic of Wicked and Phantom of the Opera that J.R. Nels and I will be working on for a while! I know some of you might be concerned that the pairings for both shows might be disrupted, but have no fear! because all pairings end up the way they should be in the end! (note: there may be some pairing problems throughout). This is chapter 1 and J.R. Nels and I both worked on this chapter. **Read/Review! _Disclaimer! Neither allygraced nor J.R. Nels own Phantom or Wicked._

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Erik banged on the keys of the organ frustratedly. He was leaving for college in naught but three days, and he still couldn't bring himself to compose a brilliant piece for the _Maestro._ He was, after all, on a full-ride musical scholarship to the Shiz University, an exclusive and rather secluded college in an unheard of part of France. He would have to be the brightest pupil in class, a natural protégée, as some would say.

_ Confound it!_ Why couldn't the music flow through him as it usually did? He pulled his hair in frustration. He _had _to prove to the head Mistress that accepting a dirt poor, masked 18-year-old was worth their while. He strode to the desk in his small flat and pulled out the fine parchment paper, gently fingering the wax seal. The head Mistress's graceful script flowed across the page:

_Monsieur Erik Mulheim,_

_We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Shiz University. We cannot wait to meet you. We, the faculty of Shiz would like to extend to you a full scholarship of the music department. I have personally made arrangements for you to have access to the music room, and corresponding parts of the building twenty-four seven._

_If you have any questions about your scholarship, please do not hesitate to contact me here at the university. Please bring any belongings you will need with you on the first day of school, when you will be given your rooming assignment. Uniforms will be for sale on the first day as well. Hope to see you on the ninth of September._

_Best Regards,_

_Madame Morrible_

Erik smiled softly and put the letter fondly back in the drawer. For the first time in his sorry 18 year existence, he had something to look forward to.

* * *

Shrieks echoed throughout the Thropp household. An attendant wheeled Nessarose into her sister's room. Anyone could tell that the girl was ecstatic. She was practically bouncing in her wheelchair; her face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

"Elphaba! Elphaba! It came!"

"What came, Nessa?"

"My acceptance letter to Shiz!"

Elphaba glanced at the unopened envelope sitting in her sister's lap. She laughed quietly at her sister's excited foolishness. "Oh, Nessa! How can you tell it's an acceptance letter? You haven't even opened it yet… For all you know, it could be apologizing because you haven't made it into Shiz…"

Nessa playfully hit her sister, "Elphaba, I just know it's an acceptance. Do you think Father would mind if I opened it now? I mean, just a peek?"

"I'm sure he'd be fine with it. It is addressed to you after all."

Nessarose squealed again. Her greedy hands tore at the envelope and her anxious eyes absorbed every word. Thrice more she shrieked. If her body allowed her to jump or dance; she would be doing just that. The attendant that was holding the handles to the chair, understood, and began spinning her around slowing, victory circles.

"Oh you see, Elphaba! I told you it was an acceptance!"

Nessa placed the letter on her sister's desk and ordered her to keep it safe for when their father arrived home. Elphaba gave her sister a weary smile as she was wheeled out of the room. Caring for Nessa was the only thing she had ever known. And now, her sister was going off to college. Elphaba wondered how she would spend the days while her sister was at school. She eyed the letter, lying open on her desk. An idea came to her mind. What if Father would let her accompany Nessa to Shiz so that she could make sure her sister was safe. Maybe she would even be able to take some classes herself. But of course, Nessa would be her main concern… Elphaba shook her head; she doubted her father would even think twice about the offer.

She reached for the letter, and read the beautiful script of the headmistress:

_Mademoiselle Nessarose Thropp,_

_We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Shiz University. We can not wait to meet you. I have personally made special arrangements to accommodate your wheelchair and any other needs you may have. _

_If your father has any questions, please inform him not to hesitate to contact me here at the university. Please bring with you any belongings you will need with you on the first day of school, when you will be given your room assignment. Uniforms will be for sale the first day as well. We hope to see you on the third of September._

_Best Regards,_

_Madame Morrible_

Elphaba sighed once again. She would never convince her father to let her go. Not wanting to give up hope, she held the letter close to her chest and whished. She never wished for anything, but she had never wanted anything more than she wanted this. She wished with all her heart, whispering what she wanted under her breath.

"To Shiz. To Shiz. Please, I want to go to Shiz, to Shiz."


	2. Arrivals

**Hey! this one was already for posting so...HERE it Is! Most Erik related is written by J.R Nels while Wicked related by myself. We are working together and this chapter was again by both of us. Enjoy! R&R **

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Elphaba looked outside the carriage that was transporting them to Shiz. She had never thought in a million years that her father would listen to her, but it had happened. Even if it was only to watch and assist her sister throughout the year, she was still going. She stuck her hand outside to let the cold air push against her hand. The wind, trying to force her back to Munckinland, back to her prison. Her father had warned her, that if anything went wrong, and she lost her temper; he would not hesitate to come and force her away from Shiz. Elphaba knew that, that threat was a lie; her father would never keep her away from her sister, his little angel.

"Elphaba bring your hand inside, this instant," her father barked, "How can you expect to go to Shiz if you can barely exercise proper manners in a carriage?"

"I'm sorry, Father. But it's so freeing. Being in a carriage, leaving home for a long time! How can I not relish this moment?"

"Bring you hand inside."

"Yes Father."

Elphaba sat, quietly on the other side of the carriage, watching her father and sister. He had always cared for Nessa most. He had rejected her since she had been born. A monster, the devil's spawn, how dare she have been born with bright green skin. He had been so afraid that Nessa would be born the same way. He had made her mother chew milkweed so the baby would be born a normal color. Elphaba knew it was her fault that Nessa was born how she was. She cleared her head of the day Nessa was born. Screams that were coming from mother and newborn, the moment that her mother fell asleep, never to wake up again. Elphaba kneeled beside her mother's limp body; begging her to wake up. Her father, dragging her away from her own mother, who had treated her like a daughter, shoving the broken baby's body in her arms, telling her to care for her sister.

Elphaba shook the memory from her head. No matter how hard she tried, that memory always haunted her. Clear as the day it occurred, forcing her to remember her curse. They had been traveling for a couple of days now, and Nessa was beginning to whine. Her father would shush her and give her something to do, and then a couple of hours later, the whining would continue. Elphaba had read the same book five times over the course of the trip, and she herself, itched to see the wonderful school.

Hours later, they had arrived at Shiz University. The sight was breathtaking. It was leviathan, more of a castle than a school, large, stone pillars and courtyards, windows all the way up the buildings and towers. The school was alive. Students were running all over the grounds, greeting old friends, looking for friends, lined up for schedules and rooming assignments. Elphaba breathed in the chaos. She gripped tightly to her sister's chair and followed the crowd to the line of students waiting for rooming.

Everyone gasped. They all stared at the oddity wheeling her sister down. She pulled the break on the chair and stalked up to the nearest boy.

"What are you staring at? Oh," she laughed, "Is there something stuck in my teeth? No," she walked away and slammed her suitcase down, "Alright, let's get this over with. No I'm not seasick," She said to the boy, "Yes, I've always been green," She said to a girl, "And No, I didn't eat grass as a child," she screamed at a girl on top of her luggage.

"Elphaba," her father shouted, "Remember what we talked about before we left."

"I'm sorry father."

Elphaba stepped back and watched her father present Nessa with silver shoes. A million different sarcastic comments came to mind, but she held her tongue. Her sister thanked her father and he kissed her goodbye. Frex shot his eldest a warning glance before walking away.

Madame Morrible came up to them. The rest of the conversation seemed to pass as a blur, until Madame Morrible tried to take Nessa away. Something inside Elphaba snapped, and Nessarose's chair spun back into Elphaba's hands. Elphaba, realizing what she had done, kneeled beside her sister and began apologizing. Madame Morrible turned at once and reprimanded her for apologizing about a talent.

Then, Elphaba was told that her father had not mentioned her in his letter. It's not like she was surprised at all… She was just disappointed that her father had forgotten about her. She decided she would get over it, and forgive her father. She returned to the monologue-ing woman in the center of the courtyard, "Ah, Miss Galinda, thank you for volunteering to share your dorm with Miss Thropp."

"Yes, well I, wait, no! Madame Morrible that's not what I-"

* * *

Erik took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart as he looked out the carriage window at his fellow classmates as they fluttered about excitedly like a group of little birds. They all looked so care-free, happy… _normal._ He sighed and put a gloved hand up to adjust his mask, and exited the carriage, clutching his suitcase to him. The crowd all looked at him with the usual look of curiosity and distaste. He felt so out of place already… and it didn't help that he stood more than head and shoulders above everyone else.

He glanced around at the hustle of the school. He absentmindedly reached to his face, making sure that the mask was still in place. In his hand, he clutched his one chance, his only hope, the acceptance letter and scholarship. He wasn't usually one to be afraid, but all the kids, his fellow students, something about the fact that teenagers are the most judgmental, that scared him. He saw how they had treated the young lady with the emerald skin. She had spunk, handled herself quite well, and she was a…..witch?

He continued to look around. So many new faces, and after years of being self taught… He was proud of himself and the fact that he had made it into a prestigious college, even if no one had ever heard of it. Erik had sent Don Juan, the opera he'd composed. That won him the scholarship. He eyed the line for rooming. He wasn't about to run into it, he saw what had happened. And then, he saw her.

A younger girl, only perhaps fifteen, peered at him through wide green eyes timidly. Soft, blonde hair fell about her shoulders in gentle curls. She looked so venerable, so small, she melted his hard heart right then. Put there was also a wary sadness that lingered in her gaze, the same he knew he possessed. This girl, who was his soul mate in every way, would change his life. It was his angel, his muse, his Christine Daae. He shyly lifted his hand to wave, but as shrieks rang out, his hand fell.

"Look at him! Oh my- Christine stay away from that guy!"

"But Galinda, why? He looks so sweet."

"No. See. He's wearing that awful mask! He'll only hurt your status here."

"Why do you care," she mumbled.

"I am popular! With me at your side, nothing will go wrong for you. So stick with me."

"I never asked you to help me," she stammered shyly.

Galinda dragged her away. Christine locked eyes with Erik once more, apologizing with her eyes. Erik told himself to let her go. She'd never be his, not with that blissful blonde acting as her mother- bear. Christine, he thought, what a beautiful name. He thought about her. Her blonde curls contrasting with her emerald eyes. A girl with emerald eyes, then emerald skin. "Erik," he told himself, "You're not in Paris anymore."

He pushed through to the front of the line. A fishy- looking woman met him at the front of the line. He showed his letter and other papers. She looked him up and down.

"Ah, Monsieur Mulheim! Welcome to Shiz University! I am Madame Morrible, headshiztress. I'm so…happy to see you made it safely."

"And you, Madame."

She glanced at his single suitcase. She hoped he had brought more. She didn't want to have to put up with more than one Elphaba Thropp. She could tell he would be an issue with that mask. "Did you leave the rest of your belongings in your carriage, Erik?"

"No, I only brought one. I barely filled this one as it is."

"Oh, Well then. Here you go," she huffed.

Erik nodded and took the paper that Madame Morrible handed to him. He looked at it for a minute. The paper told him he would be sharing a room with a one, Boq Fayin and Fiyero Tiggular. Such strange names, he thought to himself. He noted the room number and crumpled the paper before tossing it into a trash can. He passed the area to buy a uniform. He bought two navy blue suits and two blue and white striped ties. He thought that the uniforms were alright.

He located the boys' dormitory and climbed the stairs. Up on the eighth floor, he found his room. 418. He knocked on the door before opening it. Inside was one of the two boys he was supposed to room with. He was small, about four feet nine inches. His short blonde hair sat under a small hat with the Shiz crest emblazoned on it. He looked up as Erik walked in. Blue eyes sparkling, he stood up to greet him.

"Hey there! You must be Erik, right? I'm Boq. Boq Fayin."

"I know. That's what the paper said," Erik retorted sarcastically, "And yes, I am Erik Mulheim. I like to be left alone, so just keep quiet and you won't get killed."

Boq stepped back unsure of this new roommate. He nodded and returned to unpacking. Erik made sure he had some privacy, before he went over to his bed. He glanced at the six-shelf bookcase. Great, he thought to himself. His books would never fit in only six shelves. Without a word, he began shoving books into the bookcase one by one. In five minutes, he had only seventy-five percent of his books crammed into the bookcase.

"Whoa there! I have some books too buddy!"

"I need them."

"Yeah, me too."

"You don't get it."

"Oh," an obnoxious voice boomed from the doorway, "The suffering artist type, are we?"

"Who the hell are you," Boq questioned fiercely.

"Name's Fiyero. Tiggular. I… am a prince."

Erik was starting to get annoyed. He shoved his suitcase under his bed and stormed out of the room. He stalked towards the music room. He had memorized the map before coming. It was like his wildest dreams come true. Instruments of every kind stood at attention in their places, begging him to play them. But it was the large pipe organ that made his heart race in excitement. He sat on the bench at gently caressed the keys in a soft melody. The sweet music opened its warm arms to embrace him. Ah; dear, sweet music was and always had been there for him, his constant solace and love, and he began to compose.

Elphaba was out exploring the hallways of the music building. She heard someone playing a beautiful piece and decided to search for the source of the music. She found a man, sitting at the piano. Black hair, mask covering the right side of his face; she had seen him around, but she never felt like introducing herself because of her… skin dilemma. Suddenly, Erik grew keenly aware that he wasn't alone. He kept on playing until he heard the intruder clear their throat, ensuring their presence in the room.

"Hello," she said curiously.

Erik didn't even look up from the keys. She cleared her voice, "What are you playing?" He didn't even answer her. Elphaba searched around for the music, "You're not even reading music. Did you memorize it?"

"You ask a lot of questions. No. I have not memorized it, because I wrote it."

"How old were you when you wrote it?"

He sighed, "It was just a couple of seconds ago, mademoiselle."

Elphaba glanced at him, even more curious than before. He looked at her now. It was the green witch from the courtyard. Seeing her up close, she was even more of a curiosity. He got lost studying her skin and the piano's magic ceased. He sighed as soon as it stopped, "Damn it! Now I have to start all over again. Out."

She stared at him, not wanting to believe that he was making her leave. She thought that maybe he could have been a friend. Apparently skin color bothered even the masked genius. All she wanted was to listen to his music. The captivating, hypnotic music that she wished would never stop. "OUT," he screamed. She jumped up quickly and rushed out of the room, disappointed. Maybe he could be a friend, it would just take time.

Back in the music room, Erik banged his head on the keys out of frustration. Never had he met a girl, so different, or frustrating. He decided that he was going to stay at Shiz, but he had to stay in the music room if he wasn't in class. He told himself to put friendship out of his mind, because no one would ever want to be friends with a monster.

* * *

Raoul walked around, checking out the sights. Sure, he was a bit late, but he was hot, and he knew it. He wandered around until he saw the check-in desk. He stepped towards it, and then stepped back. He could not be seen talking to an old, fish-faced woman. He mustered his courage and strode up to her.

"Hey there."

"Oh. Monsieur de Chagney? Glad to see you finally decided to come."

"Yeah, I do what I want."

"Room assignment," she shoved the paper in his hand, "And you buy your uniforms over there," her head jerked in the direction of a booth where senior students were selling navy and white clothing. Raoul laughed, "Oh, now there's a problem. I thought my father had mentioned that I won't be wearing uniforms."

Madame Morrible gave him a look that was murder-worthy, "Nonsense, All students wear uniforms, whether their parents say they won't or not."

Raoul looked defeated, gathered together his pride, and sulked off to the booth. He bought ten different suits, if he had to wear a uniform; at least he was going to have options. I'll buy more later in the year too, he thought. He heard giggling voices behind him.

"Now, Christine, I am going to help you buy some new uniforms."

"But, what is wrong with the ones I already bought?"

"Darling, they look like everyone else's! You need clothing that will set you apart as an individual!"

"But, Galinda, I like what I have!"

Galinda, ignoring the small girl, turned to one of the students, "Give her one or two that have the smallest amount of blue possible and one with more white but a little more blue." She took the clothing from the vendor, turned, and handed them to Christine, "There you go. Now, let's go change!"

"But-but-I"

"No buts!"

"Okay Galinda."

Raoul watched this exchange and gaped at both blondes. The smaller one seemed, more innocent than the older one, but both seemed innocent enough. He noted that the older one's name was Galinda, and the younger was Christine. He would, after all, need girls to date while in this hell-hole.


	3. Monsieur Aubert

**Hello Readers! How's it been? Hopefully your New Year has been started off wonderfully. Here is Chapter 3 of The Wonderful Phantom of Oz! My dearest friend, and co-writer, J.R. Nels wrote this chapter. We hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews are much appreciated.**

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"Hello students. I am Monsieur Aubert. Please, take your seats." A man dressed in a fine gray day suit strode into the room, demanding everyone's attention. Erik could tell the moment he saw the man that he meant business. He wasn't particularly tall, but he wasn't short either. His salt and pepper beard was the only thing betraying his age, for the rest of his face bore little wrinkles or age. He was English; by the way Erik could already tell he was going to like Monsieur Aubert.

"So I won't beat around the bush. I want all of you to come to the front of the class and show us your musical talent or, Forté, as you French put it." Erik chuckled softly at his new Maestro's little joke. When no one else laughed, Monsieur Aubert muttered something inaudible under his breath, something along the lines of "_blasted French, dry humor." _The instructor started again. "Anyway, who is first?" Everyone looked around the room at each other. When no one offered, Erik stood up in a huff and went around to the piano. He immediately launched into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata Mvt.3. His hands literally flew across the keys in pandemonium of beautifully flurried notes. When he was finished, he had his lip to keep himself from laughing at his pupil's expressions. Their jaws went slack in utter surprise.

He took his seat and others started to come after him reluctantly. They where all practically amateurs. The piano pieces were too meshed, the flutes were too breathy, the violins were too squeaky, and the singers were far too off key. One curly haired blonde in a gaudy shade of pink stood in front of the class and started singing. She wasn't particularly horrible, but she was a tad screechy in her upper registers. Next up a boy who looked to be about sixteen with long brown hair tied back with a blue ribbon and brown eyes took the stand. Erik already hated the foppish boy. Maybe it was something in the prideful arrogance with which he held himself that bothered him. Or maybe it was the crude, distasteful way he eyed all the women in the room.

But when he started playing his instrument, a beautiful cello, Erik really hated him. He was butchering it! Sure, he played it "properly", but there was none of the beautiful mournfulness that was supposed to come forth from it. There was no heart, no _soul_. He clenched his fists in frustration and prayed it would be over soon. When he had finally stumbled through the last notes and bowed with much gusto, winking at the applauding ladies of the room. Erik sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for class to be over. He was almost asleep when the purest, most angelic sound he had ever heard made his eyes snap open. There, standing shyly on the class room stage, was the little blonde, Christine, that he had seen the day before. Her voice was obviously untrained, but an obvious diamond in the rough. Her gentle voice grew stronger as she went on.

_We never said our love was ever-green,_

_Or as unchanging as the sea. But if you can still remember_

_Stop and think of me._

When she finished, the entire room erupted in applause. Erik, the loudest of all. She smiled and ducked back to her seat. The foppish boy, who was sitting behind him, muttered to his friend, "Ya, I'll think of her. Putting that pretty little body to good use," his pal laughed at the plan.

Erik fumed. "Don't talk about a young lady that way." He growled.

"Oh ya, freak? Who are you to tell me otherwise?"

Erik turned in his seat before he did something he would regret. Thankfully, class was over. Christine stood in the back all alone, so he mustered up everything in him to introduce himself.

"Uh… Hello. I'm E-Erik Mulhiem." He bowed awkwardly.

She smiled and curtsied. "Hello. I'm Christine Daae. You are an incredible pianist."

"Thank you. And your voice… is incredible Mademoiselle. But I couldn't help notice you've have not been trained."

"How did you…"

"I, uh, have a great ear. Your voice is… beyond describable, but could improve with training."

Her emerald eyes sunk a bit. "I can't afford one. I'm very poor you see…"

"I could train you." He boldly offered.

She looked suspicious. "Why would you do something like that for me? You've only just met me…"

"A voice like yours, Mademoiselle, is hard to come by. Would you allow me?"

"Um, of course. Thank you!" She beamed in excitement.

He bowed slightly "I'm at your service"

Although class was over, Mr. Aubert called on the secluded green girl. "Miss Elphaba Thropp, everyone else in the class has gone, said for you. Please, don't be shy."

"Ah, monsieur, I am not enrolled in the performance portion of your class. Merely the history of music."

Mr. Aubert eyed her carefully. He nodded and turned away. Elphaba sighed, she had escaped getting in front of the class. But what she has said stood true. She was his only student enrolled in the history of music class. They had put her in the music class hoping she would cope. Elphaba knew that someday, Mr. Aubert would make her perform, and maybe she would, or she would ask Madame Morrible to turn him into a fish.


	4. Music, Masks, and The new Teacher

**Hy everyone! Sorry its been so long! I was experiencing computer troubles. It completely crashed on me...oh well: Here is chapter 4! probably the longest one (so far!) haha! so stay healthy and keep out of the rain! **_Disclaimer: again, neither allygraced or J.R. Nels can take ownership of Wicked or POTO, the only character that can be claimed is M. Aubert, who J.R. Nels created. _**Reviews make days happy!**

* * *

Erik sat in the music room, at the piano. He had been playing for a couple of hours. Elphaba sat in the back corner with a book pulled close to her nose. There were no classes that day, so students all throughout Shiz, were spending the day fooling around, save for Elphaba and Erik. The two sat in the music room, the only students in Shiz who were studying.

Erik was practicing for the class performances on Monday, while Elphaba was reading the history of music book for a report that was also due on Monday. Monsieur Aubert sat awkwardly in his office adjoining the classroom, occasionally glancing into the classroom to see if the kids had left.

The room was far from silent, with Erik playing key after key, and Elphaba turning pages, and M. Aubert tapping his desk impatiently. Finally, M. Aubert walked out of his office and announced, "If you kids are going to spend your day off studying, be my guest. But, don't expect me to baby-sit you," and he stormed out of the room with no acknowledgment that either student heard him. While he was leaving, Elphaba stifled a giggle. Only, it was more of a choked-off chuckle, and she rolled her eyes at the teacher, whom she thought slightly resembled a bird.

"Why do you laugh?"

"Hm," Elphaba said, "Oh, well doesn't our music teacher look like a bird?"

"I suppose he does," Erik agreed without missing a note.

They were silent again for a while, before Elphaba closed her book and strode over to the piano. For minutes, she watched his fingers fly across the keys. He played with more passion than anyone in the entire class.

"Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, where did you learn to play so passionately?"

"No one can teach you to play with passion. They can teach you to play, but the passion comes with your love for music."

Erik pushed away from the piano to look at Elphaba. He looked her in the eye and she shied away. "Why don't you join the music portion of the class," he asked.

"I don't know. It's just not what I'm into. I prefer music's history."

They were getting close into the conversation about history and theory. She sat on the bench next to him and he let her. They talked for a while and were well on their way to friendship. Laughing, and planning, Erik agreed that he would join the history of music class, and Elphaba would learn an instrument. He started showing her how the keys and notes worked and how to read music, "You see, and right there," he said pointing to the sheet music, "that's a C."

"And that's a….F?"

"Yeah, you catch on quickly."

However, the music lesson was short-lived. Boq ran into the room. "Uh, I don't mean to interrupt anything! Maybe I should leave"

"No! It's ok Boq. What do you need," Elphaba asked.

"Oh, well, Madame Morrible is looking for Erik."

"Me," Erik said in disbelief, "Why me?"

"She wouldn't say. But she did say that you needed to come, now."

Erik sighed and looked back at the piano. He stormed off without another word.

"WAIT! Don't you need help finding the building?"

"No. I know my way around."

As soon as he was out the door Boq whispered to Elphaba, "How would he know his way around campus? He barely leaves the room?"

"Couldn't tell ya, Boq. Maybe he memorized the map."

"Yea right, Miss Elphaba. Well, see you around."

"Alright. Bye."

Elphaba smiled to herself. Boq had been the first one to introduce himself to her. He was sweet, maybe a little too sweet; at least he wasn't so cold-hearted. He was like her first friend. She was a social outcast of the school, and any friends she had, she was lucky they were even her friends.

* * *

Erik sat uncomfortably in a chair outside Madame Morrible's office. He had no idea why he was called to her office, and if she called him, shouldn't she be there? He sat there for a while before Madame Morrible opened the door to her office. She motioned for him to enter and closed the door behind him.

"Is something wrong, Madame?"

"Of course not, Erik. We just need to talk."

"About what?"

"Your mask."

"And what, might I ask, is wrong with it?"

"Well, some students are… complaining about it."

"And what are these complaints?"

"Monsieur, you are, very large and intimidating already, and some students seem to think that your mask is hiding something."

"What other purpose would a mask serve, Madame? I wear my mask to avoid questions."

"Yet the mask itself creates questions."

"It's easier than not wearing the mask. It hides what happened- what was there when I was born."

"Miss Elphaba Thropp was green at birth, from what I understand."

"Yes, but her entire person is green. There would be a larger question if she were to attend school wearing a mask."

Erik studied the headmistress. She was old, most likely in her sixties or seventies. At first, someone would think that Madame Morrible was a kind woman, who had her students' best interest in mind. But after close examination, she was worrying over other things. For example, his mask was hurting her status as a respectable headshiztress.

She sighed loudly, "Monsieur Mulheim, you are no longer allowed to wear your mask."

"Madame, I must sincerely decline your request. The mask is a part of who I am."

"Monsieur, I have no more time to argue with you. I have a woman coming in for an interview. She has applied to teach the new dance class. Good day."

Erik huffed loudly and stood up, obviously the lady had other business to attend to. He stomped out, but stopped at the door, "With all due respect, I will never attend a class without my mask. Good day, Madame." And with that, Erik stormed out of the office.

* * *

The woman stood in front of the large, grey administrations office, then glanced back at her daughter. The young girl, about fourteen, was looking around the grounds at all the other students running about to their next class. The woman noticed the large clock on the front of the building and turned back to her daughter.

"Meg! Come here. Time to go in, the appointment is in five minutes."

Meg ran to her mother, "Mama, are you going to be teaching ballet again?"

"Yes, my dear. And if we are lucky, you will get to stay with me."

"But what if this, Madame Morrible, lady is not kind! What if she's an old toad?"

"Hush, now," Meg's mother reprimanded, "We'd best get inside. It's better to early, anyway."

Moments later, Madame Morrible had two ladies and a resume sitting in front of her. The older woman had dark brown hair, that she pulled into a braided twist and wore a black dress that looked more like a robe with gold- colored embroidery. The younger girl, still a child, left her curling blonde hair hanging, only pulling half of it up. She wore a plain dress, that, when she was standing, flowed nicely. The woman sat rigid in her chair, eyes never leaving Madame Morrible. The girl sat fairly straight, while her eyes wandered the room.

"Antoinette Giry," Madame Morrible looked at both ladies, question dancing through her eyes.

"Yes, I am Antoinette. And this is my daughter, Meg Giry," Madame Giry said as she gestured to Meg, who was now eyeing the vast amount of books on the bookcase behind Madame Morrible.

_Oh, so the blonde was her daughter,_ Morrible thought, "Ah, yes…Your daughter. Very well," Madame Giry shifted uncomfortably; she wasn't expecting this reaction regarding her daughter. Her mind, and thoughts, returned to listening to Madame Morrible, "Now, it says here, on your resume, that you have over 30 years of dance experience?"

"Ballet," Madame Giry corrected, "I have studied ballet for 30 years."

Madame Morrible nodded, almost sarcastically, "Well, with 30 years of experience, I suppose that you are the most qualified for the position here," she explained as if she were speaking to a toddler, "Although, you must know that here at Shiz, we expect only the highest quality of work."

"Madame Morrible, I apologize for interrupting, but I am afraid that the only way I can accept this position, is if Meg is allowed to stay with me," Madame Giry caught the angry gleam in Morrible's eyes, and hurried to explain herself, "You see, my husband passed away, quite some time ago, and my daughter is not old enough to go off on her own."

"Well, your daughter is very-"

Madame Giry interrupted her again, "Meg?"

"Yes?"

"Would you wait for me outside?"

"Yes, ma'am," Meg stood and gave a slight curtsey to Madame Morrible, then turned to leave the room, closing the door behind her. Madame Giry turned her attention back to Morrible, "I am very sorry, Madame-"

"Oh, please," Morrible laughed, "Only the students call me 'Madame.' Call me Nellie."

"Alright then… You were saying Mada- Nellie?"

"Ah, yes. Now, your daughter, she is very young."

"Yes, fourteen, but old enough."

"Old enough? This is a college, Antoinette."

"Well, yes, and I acknowledge that, but she would only be in the dance studio with me. She would be no trouble. And I prefer Madame Giry."

"Very well. If your daughter stays, then the issue of housing…"

"She will stay with me."

Nellie Morrible glared at Madame Giry. She didn't like Madame Giry, but she couldn't let the lady's experience pass. _If it were up to me at all, I wouldn't even have this issue,_ she thought,_ If the Board hadn't decided that Shiz needed a dance program_.

"Very well, Madame. Meg may stay for now," Morrible huffed. "Here," she pushed a small map towards the lady, "is a map of the grounds. As a member of the faculty, you will stay in this building," she circled a building on the map. "The cafes and restaurants are in town, and town is," she indicated on the map, "here. And here is your room assignment and the key to the door," she slid a slip of paper and attached key towards Madame Giry.

"Thank you, you have been very helpful."

"Yes, and payment, and other information, was included in the letter you received upon arriving today."

Madame Giry stood and shook Morrible's hand, then turned out of the office, dress swirling about as she turned the corner. Back outside, Meg was sitting under a statue of Shiz's founder, reading a book, suitcases at her feet. Madame Giry crossed over to her daughter. With the sound of approaching footsteps, Meg looked up, "Mama! The coachman said he couldn't stay any longer, so he left the bags here when I came out."

Madame Giry gave no distinction that she heard Meg, "Come now. We have to unpack then find the studio. You haven't practiced yet today." Meg shook her head lightheartedly. Her mother always worried about getting at least an hour of practice in everyday.

Following the map, they found the faculty dorm building. Meg stared up at the twelve-story, grey building. She thought it look too dull to be a place to live, "Mama, may I see the paper?" Her mother handed her the paper, "It says that we are going to stay in room 286."

"That's not too bad."

"It's on the twelfth floor," Meg groaned.

"We could use the exercise."

"Alright, Mama. Let's go then."

Together, they set off through the door and up the stairs. Madame Giry told Meg that it was good to walk up the stairs, every time Meg started to whine about all the stairs. By the time they had reached the twelfth floor, they were only starting to get tired. They searched the hallway for room 286, and found it at the end of the hallway, one of six on the entire floor. Madame Giry unlocked the door and stepped inside. Meg turned the lights on, and put they both put their bags down inside the doorway.

It was a small room. Two beds, a small kitchen, and sitting space. There was a small window above the stove, which let in a decent amount of light, but there were two lights on the table for when it was dark outside, one closet and a six-drawer bureau.

The ladies unpacked the bags and got settled in. Meg had finished putting her dresses in the closet, then picked up her ballet slippers, and glanced at her mother. Madame Giry nodded and pushed the drawer closed with her hip. Meg grabbed the map and handed it to her mother. The paper, adorned with boxes symbolizing buildings and writing indicating which building it was, explained that the dance studio was located right across the courtyard. Convenient, Madame Giry thought, right across from here.

"Let's go, Meg."

Meg flew down the stairs with excitement, waiting for her mother outside. When she heard her mother's light footsteps, she turned around, "Where now," she inquired, bubbling over with joy.

"That building right over there," Madame Giry pointed, "but you'll have to wait for me to unlock the doors," she said, stopping her daughter from running to the doors. She strode confidently towards the doors and turned the key. Hearing the click of the lock being moved to unlocked, she turned the doorknob. Inside, was dark. She fumbled for the light switch, which she found on the wall to the left of the door. When she flipped the switch and in seconds, the room was engulfed in light. The floors were wood, stained a deep brown, three of the walls were mirrors and along the glass was the bar, for warm-ups.

"Meg, time to stretch," Madame Giry said, satisfied. She joined her daughter with her stretches and couldn't help but feel like she and her daughter were in a second home.

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**Well, alrighty! thanks for reading, now if you would be so kind as to leave a review! Have a nice day! **


	5. Apologies, Everyone

**Hey everyone! I know that technically, we are not supposed to post chapters that are mostly A/N, but due to the circumstances, I hope that you will understand. My co-author, J.R. Nels, decided to give up fanfiction for Lent, meaning that she is not writing, reading, or checking fan fiction for 40 days. This frustrates me as well, but I gave up soda and deviantArt. Sorry for any inconveniences this gives you. Thanks for reviewing already and adding this story to your alerts. Just go and re-read the previous chapters, or check out J.R. Nels' or allygraced other stories. **

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We the characters of TWPOO regret to say that our story will not be updated for a while. The authors have NOT abandoned you. There is still more to come for this, as our adventures at Shiz University have only began.

Sincerely,

Erik M. Elphaba T. Galinda U. Christine D. Raoul V. Fiyero T. and Meg G


	6. Love and Loneliness

**J.R Nels has a message to everyone: Hey guys…. I apologize for how long it took me to write this. Life has been extremely hectic. I wont even get into it. Anyway, enjoy! allygraced nor I own Phantom of the Opera or Wicked, or any of the characters in them. **

**Me: I too, am insanely sorry for how long this has taken. We've been experiencing computer troubles and all sorts of insane stuff. But the story is nowhere near finished! We will try to be better at updating, but we are both really busy and now there's this "we don't live near one another anymore" issue so we can't shoot stuff back and forth as easily. We'll try! Thanks for sticking with us, readers!**

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"Come on, Christine! I know someone who wants to meet you," Galinda sang as she dragged Christine over to a clump of people. Before she knew it, Christine was pushed face-to-face with the handsome boy from music class. She took a few uncertain steps back, looking away from his glowing blue eyes. He gave her a warm smile, that caused her to blush.

"Raoul," Galinda twittered, "this is Christine! The one from our music class," she then proceeded to chatter nothing of importance to Raoul while twirling a bleach-blonde curl around her finger while batting her eyes. Raoul did nothing but nod and stare at Christine. His unwavering gaze caused Christine to shift uncomfortably.

"Raoul! Are you even listening to me," Galinda whined, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry, Galinda. I'm a bit distracted," he said, winking at the younger girl.

Suddenly, one of Galinda's friends pulled her away quickly, droning about one of the professors, leaving Raoul and Christine alone together. Christine sighed happily, Galinda almost never left her alone. It was nice to catch a break from the never-ending fashion advice and sing-song gossip.

"You have an amazing voice," Raoul said sweetly.

"Huh? Oh, thanks," she replied, feeling her cheeks redden once again.

"Why don't we visit one of the cafes?"

"That sounds lovely, Raoul. Thank you."

Christine took his hand and they walked off in the direction of one of the on-campus cafes. And with that, she was swept off her feet.

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Elphaba and Erik sat together in the pavilion outside the music building. Erik was drinking a cup of coffee while pouring over notes for his newest operetta, while Elphaba was sipping tea out of her favorite mug and trying to focus on a history essay for Doctor Dillamond. They were both fairly distracted, as they kept looking up from their own work to point something out to the other. When Erik happened to look up again, a group of kids passed them, sniggering and pointing.

"Elphie, why is it that you and I are the supposed 'freaks' of the school, yet we seem to be the sanest," He asked jerking his head in the direction of the passing group.

Erik smiled when Elphaba laughed and shrugged, then took another sip of tea. They were on their way to being friends, something that neither of them had ever understood. Elphaba didn't know why, but she felt comfortable around him. Erik shared that feeling of being able to tell the other everything. They were connected because of their differences. He with his mask, her with her green skin and snappy attitude, they were the perfectly suited to be friends.

"Do you think you could possibly give me another music lesson after this, Erik," Elphaba asked, hopefully. She had been learning so much as of lately, she didn't want to stop now. And since they spent all their time in the music classroom, there really wasn't a better time to practice. Erik was proud of her as well, she learned quickly and asked enough questions that she understood what she was doing.

"Of course."

They headed back inside and Erik began teaching her a simple song.

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Elphaba parted with Erik and began walking to her dorm room. If she was lucky, Galinda, her roommate, would still be out gossiping with her friends. She hadn't even turned the knob when out of the blue, Elphaba felt a finger tap her shoulder. She jumped around to see Madame Morrible standing there, dark-green, ruffled dress causing her pale, old and wrinkled face to look even more horrible. Morrible never visited student's rooms just to chat, and they weren't due to have a lesson until tomorrow. This left Elphaba terribly confused, she had no idea as to why her mentor would need to see her.

"Oh, Good day, Madame" she said shakily while she straightened her navy uniform.

"Elphaba, a word." Morrible motioned for the young lady to follow her. She followed reluctantly.

"Ms. Thropp, how is your sister? She is such a lovely girl."

"She's doing fine" Elphaba shrugged and began to fidget. They continued in silence until they had reached the door to the administrations office. Madame Morrible motioned to the door and lead the girl to her office. Morrible sat at her desk, and the sadly green child was left standing awkwardly before her.

"Well Ms. Thropp, there is something I would like to say to you," She motioned to the chair in front of her and Elphaba sat.

"There always is," Elphaba muttered under her breath.

Morrible shot a glance that would have frozen fire, then pushed her spectacles up her nose, and continued, "I have noticed that you seem to be spending much time with Erik Mulheim."

"Yes, Madame. We have become good friends recently."

"Hmm." She muttered it as though it was vinegar on her tongue, "I I will not allow you two to spend so much time together."

Elphaba stared at the headmistress, shocked. _Why wouldn't she want us to be friends anymore? This is so out of the blue! She has no right!_

"E-excuse me?"

"Well, students have been... _talking_. You two are both…" she cleared her throat, "_different_. I would feel it best for you two to not depend on each others… differences, and go and meet new people. It would better yourselves. You can't make friends if you are always with people who are not included in the majority of the student population!"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! No, you can't tell me who or who I can't 'associate' with!"

"Elphaba Thropp," Morrible shrieked, she looked flabbergasted at the girl's outburst. However, she continued, with a darker tone, "If you know what's good for you, you will not talk to him anymore!"

Elphaba could do nothing but stare in horror at the woman she trusted. Her one friend! The one person in the entire school that saw her as a human being instead of a monster, and now she couldn't speak to him! She felt the tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, and tried to bite them back. As a single tear fell across her cheek, the burning sensation that water brought to her skin broke loose. She wiped it away furiously and turned to run out the door.

"And Elphaba," Morrible sang, stopping Elphaba at the door, "You will not speak a word of this to him. He'll figure out soon enough why you are ignoring his friendship."

Elphaba ran out the door and all the way back to her dorm. She flung herself over her bed and sobbed dryly. She was completely alone. Again.

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**Dun Dun DUN! **

**Did you enjoy it? Would you be so kind, as to leave a review for us! Was it worth the wait?  
**


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